


The familiarity of strangers

by AwayLaughing



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Behind the Scenes, Canon Related, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Implied Relationships, POV Outsider, Week 4 Spoilers, Zarad's fine ofc, awkward for Cordelia anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: Zarad goes looking for solitude in the gazebo, and finds himself an unlooked for conversation. Well, it is more correct to say unlooked for conversation found him.
Relationships: Revaire Widow/Zarad
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The familiarity of strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lea_hazel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/gifts).



The gazebo was not Zarad’s most favoured haunt on the Island. For one, though it was one of the more secluded public places, it was higher traffic than one might expect. Secondly, his being here was always going to set the cat among the pigeons, and while that suited him just fine most of the time, if he were to go to the gazebo, it would surely be for relaxation purposes.

Which was why he had waited for a rainy day. Or, partially why. In truth, the rain was novel enough he found himself enjoying it. It wasn’t cold, and in this case it wasn’t driving, instead large fat drop that soaked one quite quickly, but gently. He had trusted this fact would keep others away, but he should not have been so faithful it seemed, for he could hear the swishing of skirts hurrying up the path. It was only a moment later that the brightly clad form of one Hisean “Princess’ came into view, and he sat up slightly.

Zarad had not had much occasion to speak with Princess Cordelia. They’d never been seated close during a meal, and their social circle overlapped only by a single figure, who sought them out for different reasons. Or so he hoped she did, anyhow. Still, Cordelia intrigued him. A blend of two disparate cultures, evident even in her brightly dyed Arlish style dresses. On her arm was a little wicker basket, and she was more preoccupied with keeping its contents dry than surveying her surroundings, which was probably the only reason she got as close to him as within the gazebo proper, for the moment she spotted him she froze like a startled rabbit.

“Your highness,” she said, executing a flawless curtsy despite the fact she was clearly surprised by him. “My apologies, I had no idea anyone would be out here.”

“I got rained in,” he said, lying through his teeth, though he was dry enough. She was paying little enough attention it was an easy one to pass off. “I suppose I am not so used to watching the skies.”

“I couldn’t say, your imperial highness,” she said. Two bright spots of colour darkened and reddened her cheeks, and her eyes were fixed studiously somewhere just north-east of his knee. A quick look did not reveal any particularly interesting bits of wood next to him, and Zarad found himself sinking back down from his upright position. Instead of returning to his thoughtful recline, however, he adopted a rather more languide pose. Somewhere between a tiger in repose, and a swagger frozen in place.

“Never been to Corval?” he said, “a fair shake, I have never had the chance to visit Hise myself. Aren’t you going to sit, your highness?”

She flushed harder, but to his delight finally looked at him. Her lids were slightly lowered and she didn’t meet him exactly eye to eye, but close enough he could see a bit of hidden steel lurking there.

“I don’t think that would be proper, your imperial highness,” she said, something like a rebuke colouring the vowels of her words.

“Oh?” he asked, blinking innocently up at her. “But if I’m all the way over here, and you go over there surely no one could object?”

She didn’t respond for a moment – he supposed etiquette books in Hise did not come with a section on how to deal with him. A shame; maybe he’d source a Corvali one for her.

“We are still without a chaperone,” she said.

“Oh you think? I find I am rarely alone here, it’s enough to make a man feel at home.”

That caught her attention – just for a moment she was focused on something other than his inherent impropriety, and what proximity to it meant for her. Then she went back to whichever etiquette lesson was currently replaying in her head.

He didn’t let her speak, instead huffing a sigh. “Well, I suppose if you insist I’ll have to go,” he said, and stood, fighting a grin when she looked up, horrified. “I can hardly force a lady back out into the rain, after all, can I?”

Cordelia continued to stare at him, clearly torn between being ‘alone’ with him, and what it meant to inadvertently force an Imperial Prince of Corval out into the rain by ousting him from his roosting spot. Finally, he caught the slightest sag to her shoulders.

“No, we can just – as you say stay apart.” He could _hear_ the ‘very far’ she dropped, and once again resisted the urge to grin, lest she catch onto him. While Zarad truly had no aversion to getting damp on his way back inside he also did not forsee encountering the Hisean Princess any time again soon. Not in such a relaxed atmosphere. As relaxed as Cordelia could tolerate anyway. He made a show of not watching as she settled in – keeping a careful eye all the same as she pulled a medium sized embroidery hoop.

Her movements were stiff, and Zarad actually did consider leaving, except he got the sense it was not just him being present she was worried about. Not wanting to be cruel to the Hisean Princess, Zarad made a show of yawning, and settling back on his side of the bench as if he meant to sleep. It would not be a trial beyond pale to do so, with the gentle sound of rain and the smell of wet, living dirt and living things in his nose.

Sleep was not his friendliest companion however, and Zarad was far more interested in his companion. He was about two minutes into scheming when Cordelia spoke, nearly startling him.

“It is a gift.” He looked over to Cordelia, whose lips were pursed together as she stared studiously down at her work. “My embroidery.”

“Ah, and who has earned such a personal gift as one made your hands?” he asked, “a suitor, or perhaps your cousin?” Cordelia looked up, dark eyes guarded.

“My cousin has no use for embroidery,” she said, “nor do any of my countrymen. And you know I’m not courting anyone currently.”

Zarad did know, but it was never wrong to probe for information he might have missed. “I see,” he said, “that leaves very few suspects that I know of. Is it for our mutual acquaintance, the unwitting barrister?”

Cordelia nodded, spine relaxing just a touch as they tread toward more comfortable topics. “Do you often prepare to marry acquaintences, your highness?" Cordelia asked. "But she’s been a good friend to me and she’s been under terrible stress these past days, I can’t imagine being forced into such a role.” She met his eyes briefly, needle poised to puncture the cloth yet again. “I would not call Lady Allegra unwitting though, in anything she does. If the servant girl didn’t do it, I’m sure she’ll figure out who did.”

“Please do not think I malign my lady love," he said, "I only meant she did not wittingly take the job. And you think the servant did it?"

He supposed Cordelia was not nose deep in Island intrigue the way he found himself to be. Homey indeed.

“What, murder a delegate?” Cordelia paused, before shrugging. “I notice that some of the people here say it’s impossible, that she is just a serving girl. Others say you can never trust the help. In Hise we understand at least one thing. Any person can be dangerous, given a reason.”

“I admit, from your reputation I did not expect you to be the first person to provide me with some Hisean wisdom, Princess,” Zarad said. Cordelia smiled every so slightly – a tremulous little thing.

“No? I know you’ve had more than a few run ins with my cousin,” Cordelia said.

“Ah yes well, usually we are just passing one another by really,” Zarad said, rather than admit most of their meetings took place in situations where keeping quiet was more wise than the alternative, by far.

To his surprise, Cordelia let out a most unladylike scoff – and though she immediately coloured very red, she soldiered on. “I’m too sure, your highness,” she said.

“Is that censure I hear in your voice, your highness?” Zarad asked.

Cordelia, still red, couldn’t look at him, and again she pursed her lips. His grin widened.

“Ah, you are the very image of one of my disapproving aunties,” he said. Her eyes snapped to his, brows drawing into a near scowl that did nothing to dissuade his impressions of familiarity.

“It is not at all appropriate to compare a lady unfavourably to another,” she said and he laughed, delighted to find the retiring Princess capable of a spar.

“I assure you, my aunts are _champions_ of disapproval. To compare you to them is only the utmost of honours,” he said.

“Well then, as you say,” Cordelia said, effectively cutting the conversation short as she returned to her gift. Zarad was not yet done however.

"You mentioned your countrymen would not be interested in your embroidery, is it not common in Hise?"

Cordelia's fingers paused for a moment, before she returned to work with slightly more gusto. "No. I've never been the best example of a Hisean."

"Ah, my sympathies. You no doubt have heard that I am hardly the shining example of a Imperial Corvali Prince," he said. She looked up, dark eyes studying him in a way that felt oddly familiar - were he more whimsical he might expect to look up and see the stars. Cordelia was not the sort of woman he tended to try and play with though, and even if he'd thought her able, she never would accept such an invitation. Indeed, the moment their eyes met her eyes scythed away, resting demurely back on her embroidery.

"I do not doubt you are a very Corvali Prince, your highness," she said and if he hadn't caught that glint in her eye, he might think it just a polite reassurance.

"And perhaps you are not so without the spirit of Hise, your highness," he said.

"That's very kind of you to say," she said and that, more than her previous attempt, did more to tell him the conversation was over. Just in time to - through the gap in the shrubbery, he caught a sliver of grey moving toward him. Listening carefully he could hear the slightly drag of his butler's left foot - some nearly healed leg injury Zarad had yet to get the story of.

“Ah,” he said, standing so quickly Cordelia visibly startled. “I just remembered a previous engagement – if you don’t mind, your highness.”

Cordelia eyed him, too polite to be openly dubious but managing very well all the same. “Of course,” she said. “Have a lovely afternoon, your highness. Do give Lady Allegra my best wishes.”

“It can only get more _un_ -lovely from here,” Zarad said, and without another word, leapt over the edge of the gazebo’s fencing. "And they will be the finest wishes she gets, I'm certain."

Behind him, he heard a sigh.

“Ah, don’t sigh for me your highness, I'm sure we will see one another again,” he called over his shoulder. 

This time there was no response, and he stifled a laugh as he slipped away into the over-large greenery.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I tried a few different more romantic attempts for you, but in the end Zarad wanted very badly to have a talk with the Very Proper Princess! My references to Allegra are rather oblique I'm afraid - I get very nervous handling other people's OCs I'm afraid, but I hope the little tastes of her here work for you.


End file.
